


FF#2: Touches

by MissMudpie



Series: SmoakAndArrow's Olicity Flash Fictions [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-28
Updated: 2014-05-28
Packaged: 2018-01-26 22:14:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1704476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMudpie/pseuds/MissMudpie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I don’t touch your guns or your arrows.  You do not touch my computers.  Do you understand?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	FF#2: Touches

**Author's Note:**

> Written for SmoakAndArrow's Olicity Flash Fiction. This was Prompt #2: Game On. Full disclosure: This took longer than an hour, because The Kid woke up early from his nap.

It had an XK 15 Processor with the Satellite Frequency Communicator DX 5-0. It wasn’t top of the line, because it crossed what the outside world thought was “the line.” It ran on theoretical software and cryptic programming. It was the most advanced computer ever invented, capable of running multiple searches and churning through a terra-byte of data.

And it was currently being used to play Grand Theft Auto.

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“This is mine,” Felicity had announced when the techs from ARGUS had dropped off the computer at their new Arrowcave. She waved her hand at the three-screen set up. “I don’t touch your guns or your arrows. You do not touch my computers. Do you understand?”

Roy had rolled his eyes.

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“You’re not tempted to touch?” she asked Oliver late one night when they were alone.

“I’m very tempted. I just don’t think it would be a great idea. Not now, at least.”

The look on his face told her he wasn’t just talking about her computer.

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The first person to break her “no touching” rule was Diggle. 

He thought he was being sneaky, getting online while she was gone. But recent searches and histories don’t lie. She couldn’t be mad at him, though, not when the things he had googled were, “When does spina bifida develop?” and “Percentages of babies with no brain” and “Can firing a gun near the fetus cause in-utero deafness?” 

So she kept her mouth shut and pretended like she didn’t know Diggle had not only used her high-power machine to perform routine Google searches but that he was also as scared as any other would-be father. She kept quiet even as his searches moved from the terrifying to the more mundane, like, “Week 15 development” and “Can babies really taste in-utero?”

But when she found that he’d been frequenting Baby Name Meanings, she bought him a baby name book. She set it on the table in front of him and arched an eyebrow.

Diggle had the good sense to look sheepish. And the even better sense to never touch her computer again.

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“No,” she said again.

“It’s an important game!”

“Do you know what this is? This is an XK – ”

“Yeah, it’s nerd speak for Big F’ing Deal.”

“The point is, watching a baseball game on this computer would be an insult.”

“Will you at least check the score?”

“Dammit, Roy!” Felicity swiveled in her chair to glare at him. “This,” she motioned at her screen. “This is a very complex encryption, one I need to solve so you can go out and hit things, and you whining about a baseball game is not helping!”

Her rant was punctuated by the slamming of a door and heavy footsteps on the stairs. Oliver came into view, a scowl on his face as he loosened his tie.

“How did the meeting go with your lawyers?”

“Not well,” he ground out. He came to stand behind her, almost absent-mindedly placing a hand on her shoulder. “You decrypt that drive yet?”

“It’s going frustratingly slow.”

He gave her shoulder a squeeze and turned to the younger man. “You up for some sparring?”

“Not when you have that look on your face,” Roy said. “I’m going to Big Belly. Maybe they’ll have the game on there.”

Oliver waited exactly ten seconds after the door closed behind Roy to retrieve two bottled waters from the mini fridge. 

“We should really start keeping beer down here,” he said as he handed one to Felicity and settled in the chair next to her.

She swiftly executed a few keystrokes, and the game appeared on the far right screen. “Just don’t tell Roy.”

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The second person to break her “no touch” rule was Roy. And once again, at least initially, she couldn’t really be mad at him.

It had started innocently enough. She had “borrowed” the FBI facial recognition program to hunt down an especially cagey arms dealer. Roy had brought her coffee and peppered her with questions about what she was doing and why. If Oliver hadn’t been sitting behind them, she would have thought Roy was trying to awkwardly flirt.

It was only a week later that she realized what Roy had really been aiming at.

When she wasn’t around, he was running searches on Thea. He was sneakier than Diggle. It was only because she caught him mid-search that she even knew what he was up to.

“Something’s not right! She wouldn’t just leave like that!”

“She sent Oliver a note last week. It was postmarked from Coast City. She just needs time.”

“It’s been almost three months. How much time does she need?”

The truth was even Oliver was concerned about Thea’s absence. He had been ready to mount a full-scale search for her until the post card had arrived. Its timing was almost too convenient, the message a bit off. “Hey Ollie, I’m getting settled in Coast City. It’s going well here, but I need space from everything. I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk again. Thea.” No new address, no answer on her phone. 

Felicity sighed. “Alright, look.” And she showed him what she and Oliver had been up to the past few days. She showed Roy the advanced searches ARGUS was able to accomplish. She assured him that finding Thea was a priority. She didn’t yell at him for touching her computers.

Until two days later, when she came into the base and found that not only were her other searches messed with, but that Roy had somehow managed to download a virus.

“I just did what you did!”

Felicity told him, in her loud voice, to get out, for them all to get out, and to never, EVER touch one of her computers.

Oliver had escorted Roy out, shaking his head at the younger man. When they returned several hours later, she had the system mostly back up and running. Oliver had nudged Roy towards her, and the former street rat placed a mint chip shake on her desk.

“I’m really sorry.”

“Put it on the table. No drinks on this desk. Ever.”

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After breaches by two of her three colleagues, Felicity decided it was time to do something drastic. She’d never dreamed she’d have to do this. It was too risky. If something ever happened to her….

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

So Felicity password protected her computer.

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“Don’t touch me,” she groaned, closing her eyes and curling into a fetal position. “I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Felicity,” Oliver said, and she could hear the faint amusement in his tone. “You have food poisoning. It’s not contagious.”

“I’m really gross.”

“I don’t care.”

“I care,” she insisted. “If you touch me when I’m disgusting you’ll never want to touch me again.” Before she could be embarrassed by the slight innuendo, she jerked up. “Oh, God, I’m gonna be sick again.”

He was waiting for her when she emerged from her bathroom several minutes later, a glass of ginger ale in his hand. 

They spent the afternoon in her room, Felicity curled up under the sheets, Oliver in a chair next to her bed, as daytime television played in the background. One moment she was half-listening to Ellen interviewing the latest young Youtube sensation, and the next she felt a soft touch on her head.

“Felicity. I have to go.”

“Okay,” she mumbled. Then, more coherently, “Wait! The computers. The password!”

“It’s fine. I got it.”

“Be safe,” she whispered, but sleep was already claiming her again.

“We will.” His hand lingered on her cheek, and then he was gone.

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Felicity could only stare.

Her computers, her precious, high-powered computers, were being used to play Grand Theft Auto.

If they were equipped with AI, they would have shut down with embarrassment.

She wanted to yell. She wanted to rant. But the only thing that came out of her mouth was a shrill, “WHAT?!”

Roy jumped up and took several steps away from the desk. “It was all him, I swear!”

Oliver simply turned around in the chair, fighting and failing from keeping a smug grin off his face. “MIT2009?”

Felicity huffed. “I knew I should have gone with my porn name,” and Roy choked on his spit. She ignored him, though, and remained focused on Oliver. “You’re touching my computers.” Oliver gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he grinned.

“Okay?” Roy echoed. “That’s it? I had to bribe you with ice cream but – ”

His voice came to an abrupt halt as Felicity grabbed Oliver’s bow and stalked to the practice range in the back of the room.

“Where are you going?” Oliver called after her.

“Maybe you weren’t the only one holding out on temptation,” she shot back.

Oliver turned off the video game. “I better make sure she doesn’t kill herself.”

“Whatever, man,” said Roy. A quick glance over his should reassured him that Oliver and Felicity were paying him no attention, caught up in their own twisted game of emotional chicken. 

Roy popped open a beer and pulled up a ball game on each screen. 

It really was an awesome computer.


End file.
